


One of These Days (Gonna Show Him I Care)

by matterbaby



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dom/sub Undertones, Heavy Alcohol Use, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Teacher-Student Relationship, film student!ryan, lovers to friends back to lovers?, professor!shane, ryan bergARMa, shane's protective on the DL, specifically weed, starts sexy but turns soft, they get colon hurting drunk more than i could count
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:02:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23879605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matterbaby/pseuds/matterbaby
Summary: He was halfway out the door when his professor called out lazily, “Mr. Bergara, a word?”Ryan slowly backed up, keeping his gaze on the floor as all the other students walked out. Professor Madej had on clear framed glasses, in typical teacher fashion, and didn’t even look up from his papers until the door slammed. When it did, he took them off, leaned back, and looked up at Ryan. “I’m guessing that from you blushing every five seconds and avoiding eye contact that you recognize me.”Or; in which Ryan makes out with a guy in a bar, only to realize the next day that the man is his professor for two of his classes
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 119
Kudos: 337





	1. Here for a Good Time, Not a Long Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [softwheeze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softwheeze/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally cannot give enough thanks to Annabelle (softwheeze/femmebergara) for helping me out with this shit, she beta'd for me and helped with the name and some of the ideas! she's amazing and also an amazing writer and you should check out her works if you get a chance ;) 
> 
> Also wanna give thanks to Clara for looking at the pure Mess that this was and fixing a Decent amount of mistakes lmao. Hope y'all fw this bc I'm very excited ab writing it!

“C’mon Ryan, it’s senior year! Let’s fucking celebrate!” Sara whined, tugging on his arm. 

They’d ambushed him with their plan while he was watching reruns of old Lakers games and playing animal crossing; he had a lot of anxiety about the semester starting tomorrow, and he figured that the combination of the two would be a good way to get his mind off it before he popped some melatonin and conked out. 

“Besides,” Curly continued, “you never know if you’ll see some guapisimo papi and fall in love.” He pretended to swoon on Ryan and fell on top of him on the couch.

“I have a morning class tomorrow, I can’t exactly go out and get fucking hammered,” Ryan answered, rolling his eyes at his overeager friends.

“So what? All your teachers are gonna think you’re a frat boy anyways, you should just lean into your brand,” Sara said.

“I’m not a frat boy! The only times I go to frats it’s with _you_ homos for the free drinks.”

“Actually, I’m bi,” Sara countered.

“You’re the one trying to convince me to go to the Metropolitan. For all intents and purposes, you’re a homo tonight, Sara.” 

“Ryannnnn, come _on,_ ” Curly whined. “I’m gonna give you five good reasons to come with us.” Ryan raised an eyebrow at Curly, who sat up on the couch, legs still thrown over Ryan’s lap. “Number one, it’s not as fun when you’re not there. Number two, I think Eugene and his lil crew are gonna be there. Number three, if you stay in the apartment alone you’re just gonna spiral into an anxious mess and be left alone dying.” It was around this point that Curly started running out of reasons and started fishing. “Number four, it’s senior fucking year baby. And number five, um…” he zoned out for a second before concluding “you’re a nasty little boy.”

Ryan fully snorted at that, and put his hands up in defeat. “If I show up to class hungover I’m gonna kill all of you.” 

All three of his friends cheered, Steven already pulling him off the couch. “C’mon Ryan, get dressed.” 

“Why? What’s wrong with this?” He looked down at his outfit: basketball shorts, a purple Lakers muscle tank, and jordans. It’s not like he looked like garbage or anything.

“...Nothing.” 

“Fuck you, Steven!” Ryan reached out a hand to hit his shoulder but Steven dodged, laughing. 

“C’mon, Ryan, you look fine,” Sara said, grabbing his arm. 

Ryan put on more deodorant and followed his friends out the door, Steven yelling at them for leaving him behind. Truth be told, Ryan didn’t want to go out and find anybody tonight. He was perfectly fine just hanging out with his friends all night, so what did it matter how he looked?

They walked together to the bar, a little more than seven minutes, and even if Ryan was reluctant to go out at first, he started to feel excitement buzz beneath his skin, nerves alight. His friends always knew how to get him out of his head, and he _was_ a bit high strung about the semester starting. He had no idea what he was going to do with his life once he graduated, but fully planned to procrastinate riding that train of thought until sometime in April. 

Brooklyn had a pretty good gay bar scene. When Ryan and his friends decided to look for apartments for junior and senior year, they decided on their current building without even realizing they were a few minutes from one of the better spot’s Brooklyn had to offer. They went there a few times a month, and on one of the last weeks before most students went back to college, or to older patrons, a hot September weekend, it was more packed than normal. It smelled a lot like sweat and margaritas, and Gwen Stefani was blasting way too loud. Despite the crowd, they still managed to get themselves a table against the wall near the pool table, which Ryan knew he’d have to annihilate Steven in later. 

In only a minute Curly came over with four shots of tequila (he even managed to find some guy to help him carry them over) and some kind of cocktails as chasers. They each picked up a glass, and Curly yelled, “to getting this fucking year _over with!”_

They whooped, clinked glasses, downed the drinks, and slammed them back down. Ryan tried to hold back the cough and made a disgusted face as he reached for the cocktail— which he realized was rum punch when he took a sip. “Curly, you know I don’t drink fruity shit,” Ryan complained. “Why couldn’t you get me a Jack and Coke or something?”

“Umm, I’m sorry honey, which one of us is buying your drinks?” Curly raised his eyebrows. Ryan was silent. “That’s what I thought. If you want your Jack and Coke, go find some daddy out there to buy it for you. Ungrateful skank.”

“Love you too, Curly,” Ryan laughed. 

“I bet you could do it, too!” Sara yelled, already getting louder from the one shot. 

“Obviously I could, but I don’t _want_ to.”

“Bet! I’ll bet you uh...” Steven trailed off, thinking. “How about this! Next time we go out, I’ll buy _all_ your drinks if you can get a guy to buy you that drink within… hm, ten minutes?” Steven looked at Sara and Curly for confirmation who nodded. “Ten minutes.” 

Ryan groaned. It was a _really_ good offer. “I’m gonna need another shot in my system.” 

Curly yelled in victory, then turned to the guy still next to him. “Ron, chico, go get him a shot won’t you?” 

The guy in question smiled and walked towards the bar. “I’m sorry, _Ron?!”_ Ryan asked when the guy was out of ear shot. “The best you can do is a fucking _Ron,_ Curly?”

“Shh, he’s cute! And buying me drinks.” 

Ryan shook his head at his friends. Steven already had a ten minute timer pulled up on his phone, ready to go, which he waved at Ryan. Ron came back with another round of shots and put them in front of Curly. “Aww, thank you honey. Ryan, here’s your shot.” 

“How’d he get it that fast?” Ryan asked, a bit cautious. 

“Bartender’s a friend of mine,” Ron shrugged. Ryan didn’t trust him that much. He sniffed the drink first— even if he knew realistically, he probably wouldn’t smell a drug, it eased his nerves to check first. Maybe he was being a bit reckless when he shrugged and knocked it back, then chugged the rest of the rum punch. But he was here for a good time, not a long time. 

“Timer starts once I hit the dance floor,” Ryan said, pointing a finger at Steven. By the time he made his way towards most of the commotion, My Neck, My Back started playing. It made Ryan want to laugh, but he started dancing anyways, the alcohol starting to catch up with him freeing up his limbs. Halfway through the song, he found himself dancing with some random man. And holy shit, was he _tall._ The guy had fluffy brown hair, towered over Ryan— had to be at _least_ 6’3, maybe 6’4— and was much hotter than he had any right to be in a floral hawaiian shirt, black jeans and a pair of sneakers. Ryan wanted to point out that it was 89° out, ask how he wasn’t sweating his ass off in those jeans, but instead got closer to the guy while keeping his mouth shut. 

He was up against the guy’s chest by the time the song ended, and he felt giggly. The man leaned down into Ryan’s ear and asked, “can I buy you a drink?” He smiled and winked, and Ryan felt himself go weak in the knees. He accepted, with a large smile, and they made their way over to the bar. Ryan made sure to make eye contact with Steven across the room, held up five fingers, and stuck his tongue out. 

He put his friends out of his mind after that, though, and focused on sliding into a seat right next to the man. “What’s your name?” Ryan asked, yelling over music that was blaring again. 

“Shane. Yours?”

“Ryan.” 

Shane smiled, waving down the bartender. “Well, Ryan, any preference?” 

“I’ll have a Jack and Coke, if you don’t mind.” Ryan smiled sweetly, let his ankle brush up against Shane’s. “You a new face or something? I feel like I haven’t seen you around.” 

Shane ordered their drinks and leaned forward. “Yeah, actually. Just moved out here for my job. Couldn’t afford a Manhattan apartment though, like most of New York. I take it you’re a regular?” 

“Yeah, my friends and I live a few minutes away.” 

Shane nodded and handed Ryan his drink. “You here with them now?”

“Yeah. They’re the ones being dickheads against the wall.” Ryan pointed them out to Shane; they managed to find the ones Curly wanted to invite and pushed two tables together, forming a group with Jen, Eugene, Zach, and Andrew. Zach and Steven were both trying to do a blowjob shot, emphasis on the word _trying,_ and Zach managed to get it all over himself in the process. Sara was wearing a bunch of little cocktail umbrellas in her curls, and Jen was in the process of putting more in her hair. Curly was laughing his ass off and screaming about something Ryan couldn’t make out.

“Interesting crew,” Shane laughed. 

“Oh yeah. I’m with umbrella girl, blueberry hair, and the one screaming.” He pointed out each of his friends respectively. “I’ll have to make sure to introduce you sometime.” 

“Yeah? How do you know I’ll like ‘em?” 

“If you don’t, you can kiss this sweet ass goodbye.” 

Shane laughed, eyes crinkling up. Now that Ryan had his drink, he really wanted to go gloat. But it’s been a while since someone like Shane showed up here, and he wasn’t exactly gonna pass that opportunity up. So he knocked back the rest of his drink, slammed it against the table with unnecessary force, and smiled at Shane. “Wanna go dance some more?” 

“Absolutely,” he said, mimicking Ryan by chugging the rest of his drink. 

Shane was a surprisingly good dancer. And hot. Like, really hot. Ryan found himself getting closer grinding up against him. He wasn’t sure at what point they moved, the drinks in his system blurring the more linear aspects of the world. But the next thing Ryan knew, he was up against the wall, Shane’s breath heavy against his lips. For a second or two, Ryan just looked into his eyes, barely visible in the dim bar lights. Then he moved forward, pressing his lips against Shane’s. And yeah. That was definitely around what he’d been expecting. 

His lips were soft and warm, and when he brought his hands up to hold Ryan’s face, they covered most of his cheeks. Ryan’s hands, desperate, fisted themselves in his shirt, pulling him closer. He opened his mouth, desperately seeking more, and let out a vaguely obscene sound when Shane licked into his mouth. A knee was pressed in between his thighs, Shane’s chest pressed him closer to the wall, and Ryan was sure he’d fall down soon if they continued like this. The four drinks he’d had mixed with the endorphins rushing through his brain, and he felt dizzy, but in the best way possible. His arms wrapped around Shane’s neck, both to pull his face down closer and to support himself. 

Shane’s stubble scratched his cheek, and one hand left his face to grab his ass. Ryan definitely moaned then, arching into the touch. Truth be told, he probably would’ve gone home with this guy if someone didn't pull him off of Ryan. He looked at the guy, and felt regret flood through him. “Fuck off, Leo,” Ryan groaned.

“Ryan, baby!” The man slurred. He was a few inches shorter than Shane, but still taller than Ryan, and had tan skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. “Itsss been a while, hasn’ it? Who’s this… guy? Do I gotta fight ‘im?” 

Ryan sighed and stepped away from Shane. “How many times do I gotta tell you I’m not interested?” 

“Then why’d you suck my _cock_ —”

“I’m sorry,” Shane interrupted, taking a step forward. “I’m pretty sure he said he’s not interested.” Shane stared Leo down, eyes cool and unforgiving in a way they hadn’t been a second ago. 

After a few beats, Leo backed away, but not before spitting on Ryan, murmuring words that sounded something like _dirty slut_. That was when Curly popped up at his side— how long had he been standing there? Ryan didn’t have time to ask, though, because he was pulling his fist back and punched Leo in the face. 

“I thought we told you to leave Ryan alone, you fucking bitch! ” Curly lunged for Leo again, but Ryan held him back. “Pinche morror mamon, que te folle un pez!”

“I don’ even know what that means!” Leo yelled. At this point, other people were starting to get involved, and there was definitely a bouncer moving through the crowd. So Ryan looked at Shane, mouthed _I’m sorry,_ and bolted. 

He and Curly were through the back door before anyone realized they were in charge of most of the commotion, and soon enough Sara and Steven caught up with them outside. “What the fuck, Ryan?” Steven asked, out of breath. 

“I’m not the one that punched the guy!” He defended, hands up.

“Why’d you hold me back, Ryan? I swear, I should’ve pummeled him into the _ground_ —”

“Because assault charges are a thing, Curly. C’mon, let’s just… get back home.” 

And so they made the trip back home, Sara and Steven immediately forgetting about the incident as they started laughing about something Eugene said. Ryan laughed along, but by the time he collapsed in his bed, he was more stressed than he’d been before they went out. 

He did wish he got the guy’s number, though. Ryan liked fresh faces. Hopefully he’d be there the next time Ryan went out with his friends. 

♡ ♡ ♡

Ryan hated himself in the morning, as expected. His head was pounding, his mouth tasted like shit, and his alarm was way too fucking loud. He did remember to chug some water before bed last night, though. It definitely could’ve been worse. 

Despite all this, he still got up, took a shower, and put effort into looking presentable for the first day of the semester. He’d have the rest of senior year to look like trash, but he might as well convince his professors he’s worth an ounce of respect. His hair was styled, laptop fully charged, and Ryan barely said anything to his friends by the time he was on his way to the subway station. 

The thirty minute ride it took to get to school was, in all honesty, not all that bad. Sure, the subway’s pretty gross, and the people are fucking _weird._ But it gives him time to read, listen to music, or finish last minute assignments and reading (which happened more often than not). He tried to focus on his book this morning, but found it downright impossible with how clogged his mind is. Truth be told, he was actually pretty excited for his first class of the week. He definitely could’ve done worse than History of Cinema, which, from what he’s heard from friends on campus, is taught by “the hot new professor,” Madej. And even if Ryan’s never been the kind to go after his professors, well, it’s senior year, he’d earned some eye candy. 

Ryan showed up five minutes early and sat in the third row of desks, in a lecture room that looks like it was meant to hold thirty, maybe forty students. More students began to walk in as start time approached, and at 11:00 on the dot, the professor walked in. Ryan’s heart sunk into his stomach.

It is definitely, undeniably, 100% the man he made out with at the bar.

The professor sat on top of his desk and waved at everyone. The classroom was silent. “Hey guys. I’m Professor Madej, and this is my first year teaching, in case you’re wondering why I’m a new face.” Ryan had a sickeningly good view from his seat, and watched the professor scratch his beard a bit as he talked. “I know a lot of teachers use this as like, a syllabus day, but I don’t wanna spend more than ten minutes going over the course ‘cause that shit’s boring.”

With that, Shane— or Professor Madej— jumped into the course. As promised, he spent minimal time going over the syllabus, and soon jumped into the origins of film as a technology and art form. Ryan still paid attention to the lesson and took notes, but every time the professor would make eye contact with him, he’d blush furiously and look down at his hands. The kid next to him must be so confused. The fourth time it happened, the professor held his gaze for a few seconds long. Ryan coughed and pulled up his messages on his Mac. 

**_Ryan:_ ** _FUCK FUCKF UCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK_

 **_Ryan:_ ** _THE GUY_

 **_Ryan:_ ** _FRIDAY_

 **_Ryan:_ ** _AT THE BAR_

 **_Curly:_ ** _oh boy, is he in ur lecture?_

 **_Ryan:_ ** _EVEN WORSE!!!!_

 **_Curly:_ ** _oh honey…_

 **_Steven:_ ** _Ryan noooo_

 **_Sara:_ ** _are we all thinking the same thing_

 **_Ryan:_ ** _hE’S THE FUCKING PROFESSOR_

 **_Ryan:_ ** _I HAVE M U L T I P L E CLASSES WITH THIS MAN_

 **_Ryan:_ ** _I SEE HIM DAILY_

 **_Ryan:_ ** _HOW TF AM I SUPPOSED TO GO THROUGH MY CLASSES KNOWING I GRINDED AGAINST MY PROFESSOR AND HAD HIS FUCKING TONGUE IN MY MOUTH_

 **_Curly:_ ** _drop out_

 **_Ryan:_ ** _I CANT_

 **_Curly:_ ** _why not_

 **_Ryan:_ ** _I PROCRASTINATED ALL MY HISTORY CREDITS. I NEED TO TAKE THESE CLASSES. HE HAS LIKE, THE ONLY TWO INTERESTING OPTIONS_

 **_Curly:_ ** _why dont u just take latin american history with me? ur mexican babe_

 **_Steven:_ ** _Or take east asian culture with me. You’re asian too_

 **_Ryan:_ ** _I’VE ALREADY GOT ALL THOSE LESSONS A MILLION TIMES FROM MY GRANDPARENTS_

 **_Curly:_ ** _school ur abuela in mexican culture_

 **_Ryan:_ ** _Hey curly? I’d like to fucking stay alive, thank u very much_

 **_Curly:_ ** _if you take a video and post it on tik tok i bet you’d go viral_

 **_Ryan:_ ** _What’s the point of going viral if I’m six feet below?_

He closed out his messages when the professor brought the class to an end. Madej assigned movies for them to watch for Wednesday and Friday's discussions, but wanted them to take notes and pose their own theories on what they said about narrative, style, and meaning. Ryan was so ready for this, already having seen half of the movies written on his own. He hadn’t seen a Chaplin film since his freshman year.

He packed up quickly, and planned to get out of class as fast as he could while still avoiding eye contact with his professor. He was half out the door when his professor called out lazily, “Mr. Bergara, a word?”

Ryan slowly backed up, keeping his gaze on the floor as all the other students walked out. Professor Madej had on clear framed glasses, in typical teacher fashion, and didn’t even look up from his papers until the door slammed. When it did, he took them off, leaned back, and looked up at Ryan. “I’m guessing that from you blushing every five seconds and avoiding eye contact that you recognize me.”

“I-I, uh, I mean…” 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Ryan started playing with his hands, more nervous than he’s been in years. He was kind of upset, too. He’d thought the professor was pretty cute before he knew who he was. “I-I’m sorry, Professor Madej. I wouldn’t have— well, not a lot of people from here go there— I figured it’s farther away— I didn’t think— I…” Ryan trailed off, and his professor nodded.

“I understand, Ryan. Would you like to agree that never happened and move on from here? I can promise you I’d get in a... decent amount of trouble if I had some sort of relationship with one of my students.” 

Ryan nodded quickly, his hair coming loose from how he painstakingly styled it.

“Good. In that case, I’ll see you Wednesday?”

“Tomorrow, Sir. I’m also in the spy class.” 

“The…” Madej sighed and rubbed his forehead. “It’s not _the spy class,_ it’s a look on how espionage has shaped the modern world, and the role it’s played in governments all over history.”

“Right. So it’s a spy class.” 

“Get out, Bergara,” he said, but there was nothing behind it. Ryan could hear it in his voice.

“See ya later, Madej,” he said with a salute, and waited until he was out of his classroom to panic.


	2. Filling People up Like Balloons With LSD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan realized if he really wanted to, he could sleep with Shane right now. Go back to his place, drunk and uncoordinated, then sneak out in the middle of the night. But the tequila left a little room for reasoning then, and Ryan softly pushed Shane’s chest, their lips disconnecting with a satisfying smack.

His second week of the semester, Ryan realized how truly fucked he was. 

He started off the week with a wet dream about his professor that wouldn’t leave, a continuation of what happened at the bar, where it would’ve gone if Leo hadn’t showed up. So that was a great thought to linger in the back of his mind while said professor explained the importance of the rise of movie theatres in America. 

Then there was the fact that his professor had almost the exact same sense of humour as Ryan. More often than not, Ryan found himself laughing the hardest at the jokes his professor would make during class, and it only made his heart beat faster when their eye contact lasted a few seconds too long. 

Ryan found himself participating in class discussions more than he expected he would. The bashfulness and straight up fear he'd experienced the first few days was starting to melt away as they got into topics he was way more interested in than he expected. Sure, Ryan got good grades throughout history— he would've ended up in a California state university if not— but it never really caught his attention. But history of film focused on something dear to his heart, half of the films being ones he grew up watching, and history of espionage was... definitely an interesting class.

You could tell where Shane's passion was when you had the two classes in the day. He definitely didn't _neglect_ his film history class, not even a little bit, but you could feel how much more energized he was when it came to teaching his spy class. As he went in depth on a World War II spy story, he had the mission impossible music playing, his powerpoint just as lively as he was. It was horribly, disgustingly endearing. He brought them through every step of the case, and Ryan hated to admit what a captivating story teller he was. In the back of his mind he thought about how he'd listen for hours. 

Shane spent the second half of class talking about various spy operations in World War II, from the Nazis to Britain to the US. And well, Ryan spent too many nights scouring sketchy blogs at 3 in the morning to not raise his hand when US covert operations were mentioned. Shane clearly didn't know what he was getting into when he called on Ryan. "Mr. Bergara, a question?" 

"Well, no, more of a comment?"

Shane raised an eyebrow and gestured for Ryan to continue. He did so gladly. "Well like, you know about the Philadelphia Experiments? And the subsequent connection to the Montauk Project at Camp Hero? What do you make of that? Do you think there's any validity considering other things the US dipped their toes into, like filling people up like balloons with LSD and whatnot." 

Shane sighed deeply and put his head in his hands. The girl Ryan sat next to, Mari, was looking at him with furrowed eyebrows, but he didn't try to explain to her. "For those of you who are unaware of what Mr. Bergara is talking about, he means a _wildly discredited_ conspiracy theory that a Philadelphia naval base managed to, what was it, make a ship—"

"The USS _Engstrom,"_ Ryan supplied.

—Invisible, teleport it to New York, then teleport it to another dimension where they _met aliens,_ and Then teleported through time. Is this the theory you're asking me about, Mr. Bergara?"

"You forgot the sailors melting into the hull of the ship, sir. And that whole part of it's the ramblings of a madman, sure—"

"His whole case comes from annotations in a book on UFO's! Where he pretends to be three different people talking through the book!"

"— _But,_ is there not a decent case made for weird ass experiments made at Camp Hero that involved testing on foster children for theories like mind control and time travel. Similar to what we have proof they tested with M.K Ultra!" 

"Ah yes, the same camp that has also allegedly staged the moon landing?" Shane crossed his arms and stared him down. When he offered no further details, Shane sighed and addressed the class. "We focus on things with proof and historical accounts, Mr. Bergara. Unless you can offer me more than men claiming to have repressed memories, a phenomenon not proven by the way, please don't distract the class with conspiracy theories." 

"Ohhh, my bad. So just to clarify— if the theories _do_ have evidence I'm free to go?" 

"So the US sought out many ways to stay ahead of their enemies, both as a result of World War II tensions and the cold war," Shane started, completely disregarding Ryan's question. 

"Damn, that was kind of brutal," Mari whispered in Ryan's ear as he leaned back, smiling. 

"Are you kidding me? I just found myself some new entertainment." 

Mari shook her head at Ryan, trying not to laugh, and just said "you're insane."

Class ended sooner than Ryan would've wanted, students emptying out of the classroom quickly like they always did. Ryan had a big paper due for history of cinema at the end of the week, and even though Ryan knew he was being stupid, he stayed behind to talk about it. Similarly to the first day of class, Professor Madej didn’t look up from his laptop until all the students had left the room and the door closed. “Yes, Ryan?” He asked, folding his glasses on the table. “Hey there, professor. So like, about the essay coming up? For history of cinema?” Ryan started to fidget and play with his hands without fully realizing. Shane— Professor Madej— hummed, so Ryan took it as a cue to continue. “I, um, w-when are your office hours?” 

He furrowed his eyebrows at that and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Ryan, I hope you know that—” 

“I know, I know, it-it’s actually about the essay, I promise. I just, I wanna talk it through with you. I-I was thinking about doing the Dickson Experimental Sound Film, but like, not in the way we talked about in class?” 

Professor Madej pursed his lips at that, thinking. “Alright. Office hours are Tuesdays and Thursdays at 4:30. I’ll stay in my office until five, and if you show up before then, they run until six. Please don’t take up all my time like that, though. Make sure you're actually prepared on what you talk about, don't just walk in there expecting me to tell you how to do your whole assignment.” 

Ryan nodded, and smiled. He liked the hardass version of Shane in a way. “Thanks, Madej.”

“That’s  _ Professor  _ Madej.”

“Right. See you Monday.” Ryan left without another word. 

♡ ♡ ♡

The second Ryan got home, he collapsed on the couch next to his friends and declared, “I just did a very dumb thing.”

“What is it this time?” Steven asked, deadpan as usual. 

“Does it have to do with one Professor Madej?” Sara asked, with an infuriating grin. 

“Um…” 

“Oh my god Ryan, I was joking. The fuck did you do?” 

“I’m going to his office hours Tuesday.”

That was all it took for Curly to get involved. “No fucking way Ryan! Oh my god, you’re gonna get that professor D?”

“Nah, I think he’s doing it to get an A,” Steven said. Sara high fived him.

“No! It’s not like that,” Ryan protested. “We have this big essay coming up, and I wanna talk to him about it to see if I’m allowed to do the thing I want.”

“What, suck his dick?” Sara asked. 

“Jesus _Christ_ guys.”

“I’m not the one who made out with my history professor!” Sara defended.

“I didn’t KNOW he was my professor! He was just some hot guy at a bar.” 

“Oh! That’s it!” Curly yelled. Someone would have to teach this man about inside voices. “You need to go out so you forget about your hunky professor that you missed out on.” 

Sara cheered and agreed with going out, but this time, Steven was the voice of reason. “What if he sees his professor there again?” 

“Pshh, what’re the odds of that happening? I doubt he’ll go back there if he knows Ryan’s a local. Besides! They’re doing a karaoke night!” 

“Oh, fuck yeah karaoke!” Steven said, a full 180. “Ryan, now we gotta go. I wanna see everyone make a fool of themselves. We could call up the others!” 

Ryan tried to argue against it, but none of them were hearing it. Sara threw an arm around Ryan’s shoulder. “Even if you don’t go home with someone tonight, it’ll get your mind off your professor to let loose. What do you say?”

Ryan sighed and finally gave in. “Fine. What’s the worst that could happen, right?”

♡ ♡ ♡

Apparently the worst that could happen is Ryan, after having done a few shots of tequila, being pressed against the bathroom wall by none other than Professor Shane Madej. 

In all fairness, he didn’t even realize his professor was at the bar (his attention was taken up by an intense game of pool) until much later in the night. Up until that point he’d fucked around a considerable amount, found Eugene and danced like sluts together, and made sure to watch all the karaoke performances with enthusiasim. It was a fun night, and he wasn’t even thinking about Shane until he saw him.

It happened when he was halfway through his karaoke song, belting out some ABBA (Steven had made fun of him beforehand, telling him that singing  _ When I Kissed The Teacher  _ was a little on the nose. Ryan just flipped him off). Shane was at the back of the bar playing pool against Eugene— he’d apparently forgotten to update his other friends on the “made out with my hot tall goofy teacher at our  _ regular  _ bar” part of the professor issue— and was lining up his shot with severe intensity, one leg up on the table as he stared down his cue. Ryan shook himself out of it, promising himself he wouldn’t focus on how hot Shane looked. Or how he'd love to be under him like that, covered by Shane's body, with that look of concentration focused entirely on him. No, he’d just finish his karaoke song, do another shot, find some random guy to make out with, and hope his friends regained control over the pool table. It was their spot, damnit! 

He got off the stage to see Steven with his phone out and flipped him off, starting to walk away when Sara grabbed his arm. “Ryan, I’m not sure if you saw but your—”

“My professor, yeah, I noticed.” 

Sara looked guilty and chewed on her lip a little. “Do you wanna go? We can still have fun at home. Or go to another club! We haven’t been to a drag show in a while.” 

“Nah, fuck that, I’m stayin’ here. I’m gonna go kiss a random guy or something, take Curly’s advice and get that stupid prick out of my mind.” 

That didn't exactly work out as planned. Ryan  _ did  _ make out with some tall guy with dark skin and strong arms, and even managed to get his number, but felt a tap on his shoulder while he was gearing up to not so subtly invite himself over. “What’re you doin’ here?” The intruder yelled over his shoulder. Ryan turned and saw his professor standing there, looking surprised. 

“Um, this is kind of my regular—”

“What?!” Shane yelled, bringing his face closer.

Ryan rolled his eyes and raised his voice. “I said this is my regular—”

“What was that?” Shane yelled again. Ryan sighed, apologized to the guy— Tyler or Terry or Travis or something— and stood up to actually talk to the professor. They were surrounded by moving bodies, and found themselves pushed towards the walls anyways. “I was asking you what you’re—”

“No, no I heard you. What are  _ you _ doing Madej? Are you drunk?”

“That’s— that’s  _ professor  _ Madej to you,” he corrected with a smile. 

Ryan groaned and rolled his eyes. “You’re the one who’s all  _ none of this ever happened  _ with me. So, what are you doing?” 

Shane shrugged, and turned to walk towards the bathroom. “Great question,” he yelled loud enough for Ryan to just catch it. He could hear Eugene and Curly performing a Brittney Spears song, but paid no attention to it, instead chasing after Shane. 

Ryan followed Shane a few steps behind, catching up in the dim bathroom. Clean for a bar but still disgusting. Shane was at the mirror fixing his hair when Ryan crowded into his space. “Shane. Please just explain, I’m really confused here, and you’re hurting my drunk brain.”

Finally, Shane turned to him, and took a step forward. Ryan took a step back. They continued on like this until Ryan’s back touched the cold tiles of the wall, and he had to look up to see Shane’s eyes. “You’re a nice singer. I like the song.” His breath smelled like whiskey and vodka, yet Ryan still wanted to kiss him. 

“How drunk are you right now?” He said instead. Something in him said this was probably a bad idea. But he never listened to that voice when he was drunk.

“Like… um, drunk?” Shane shrugged, but his eyes never left Ryan’s.

“Am I gonna regret this?”

“Probably.

“Are  _ you  _ gonna regret this?”

“Probably,” Shane repeated, then put a hand above Ryan’s head on the wall. “That’s for future Shane to worry about, though.” And that’s how he ended up here, pressed up against the wall by his professor, whose lips and breath were hot against his own. Even if it was a bad idea, Ryan closed the distance, and audibly sighed when Shane kissed back. He’d missed the way it felt, those soft chapped lips and the taste of his tongue that Ryan couldn’t quite place. Shane’s body pressed closer, pushing Ryan farther into the wall, and Ryan could feel that Shane was hard. Then again, he was on his way, too.

Ryan realized if he really wanted to, he could sleep with Shane right now. Go back to his place, drunk and uncoordinated, then sneak out in the middle of the night. But the tequila left a little room for reasoning then, and Ryan softly pushed Shane’s chest, their lips disconnecting with a satisfying smack. Ryan noticed then that there were a few other people in the bathroom, but none of them paid attention.  Maybe it was because Ryan liked to play hard to get when he actually  _ liked  _ a guy. Maybe it was because he’d seen the way Shane laughs at his own jokes during his lectures and didn’t want to throw it away. But he could at least lie to himself and say it was responsibility that made him say, “I gotta get back to my friends. I’ll see you Monday. And after hours Tuesday.” 

Shane looked surprised, and started to say something as Ryan slipped out of his grasp and left the bathroom. Ryan would deal with thinking about that in the morning. For now, he was going to find Trevor or whatever his name was, and probably go home with him. And if he imagined it was his professor filling him up later that night, well, whose business was it? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter's a little bit shorter but I promise it gets better next one. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for all the love, y'all almost made me cry with how sweet your comments were! I totally was not expecting such an immediate outpour but I'm beyond grateful to have your support. Thanks for reading and shit!


	3. Mr. Frat Rat Bergara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane laughed a little bit and sipped his coffee again. “That is highly inappropriate, Mr. Bergara."
> 
> “Hey, you’re the one that asked!” 
> 
> “I didn’t ask you about your sex life, Ryan, I just mentioned how you’re a total frat boy.” 

Monday morning, when Professor Madej walked into class, there was absolutely no indication he was thinking about Friday night. He was completely normal throughout the lesson, his face even when they’d occasionally make eye contact. He didn’t even ask Ryan to stay after class. 

Ryan figured he probably didn’t even remember what happened. Shane was pretty damn drunk, his words sloppy and his movements uncoordinated. Which is _definitely_ not his norm. He’d explained the whole situation pretty in depth to all of his friends (a little too in depth for Steven, not enough for Curly), and they were all on the same page for the most part. For Ryan’s sake, he chose to believe Shane was too drunk and horny. And, yeah maybe his professor _was_ into him, even sober. But that bit of physical attraction was certainly not enough for Shane or Professor Madej or whatever the fuck Ryan should be calling him to _do_ something. Excluding Drunk Shane. 

So, Ryan just decided to put that whole situation in a little box to deal with when the semester ended. Shane didn’t even remember. (Probably.)

After class on Tuesday, Ryan was left with thirty minutes before office hours. He wasn’t sure how to spend the time, but decided on getting coffee and going for a quick walk, just to give himself some time to process his day and to think a bit. Since he wouldn’t get his Subway Pondering Time until much later. 

He took the short walk to a cafe on campus and waited on the (honestly absurd) long line. It was definitely a good day for some iced coffee; even if the warm weather was on its way out the door, today it was 72 degrees with absolutely no clouds. Ryan had already abandoned the possibility of looking nice three weeks in, and took advantage of one of the last few days of warm weather, wearing a pink tank top, tan shorts, and some crisp white vans. He didn’t have time to style his hair this morning and ended up with a backwards Lakers hat on. When he caught his reflection in one of the windows he passed, Ryan realized he probably looked like he belonged to a frat. It surprised a lot of people he met that he _wasn’t—_ the main reason why he wasn’t was because he wasn’t entirely sure how they’d feel about the whole gay thing (that’s not to say he wasn’t popular in the frats, of course; Eugene was his go-to when he wanted to go out to frat parties, which was pretty frequent— the beer was free, and the amount of straight guys looking to “see what that whole gay thing’s about” is surprisingly large). 

He was pretty lost in thought, snapping out of it when he was second in line. As he was called up to the counter, leaning against it as he squinted at the board, he made a spur of the moment decision. “I’ll have one iced coffee, cream, one sugar, and uh… a hot coffee with half and half. And a cookie.” Because, fuck it, he was going to the gym tomorrow. 

The guy taking his order had hair bleached blond and a multitude of ear piercings. “Sure thing,” he said, writing it all down on a notepad. “Name for the coffees?” Ryan gave his name, threw his change in the tip jar, and didn’t miss the subtle wink when the guy said _coming right up._ He wasn’t too interested, though. The barista was an e-boy twink, and obviously a massive bottom, which wouldn’t make for a good time. 

He opened his texts as he waited for the coffees, seeing his friends up to their usual bullshit.

**_Sara:_ ** _yeah, and i was like, umm, obviously i buy cruelty free you vegan bitch. who are you to judge my pink hair dye then try to lecture me on this shit!_

**_Sara:_ ** _i am a Liberal Arts major and So Intensely Bisexual, is it not obvious i’m left wing as shit?_

**_Curly:_ ** _u should’ve smacked a bitch_

**_Steven:_ ** _It’s a miracle you haven’t been arrested yet, Curly_

**_Curly:_ ** _*convicted_

**_Steven:_ ** _Wait WHAT_

**_Steven:_ ** _How have I not heard this one?_

**_Curly:_ ** _im a man of mystery_

**_Ryan:_ ** _Hate to interrupt the chat ladies_

**_Ryan:_ ** _But I just got Shane a coffee. Was that a dumb decision? Should I give it to some random person on the street? Or just drink both coffees at once?_

**_Ryan:_ ** _Maybe I can tell him I only like my coffee lukewarm then drink the hot and the iced at the same time._

**_Curly:_ ** _ryan, ur spiraling babe_

**_Ryan:_ ** _I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF I’M BEING STUPID ANYMORE CURLY!!!_

**_Ryan:_ ** _Also the twink who made my coffee’s tryna flirt with me_

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, because at that moment Ryan’s name was called, with two coffees and a bag set on the counter. There was something written on the side of the Styrofoam cup, and upon further inspection, in probably the gayest handwriting Ryan’s ever seen it said, _call me if you ever want more coffee, on me. ~Bryn_

Ryan didn’t want to offend the guy, so he made sure to smile at the Barista before turning away. That wasn’t the biggest thing on his mind, though (no pun intended), much more pressing thoughts clouding his brain. He had no idea how his professor took his coffee, and decided to just grab a handful of sugar packets to shove in his pocket. There were another fifteen or so minutes left before office hours, so Ryan took the long way, drinking his coffee, which he had to admit was actually pretty damn good. He took a picture of Bryn’s number, deciding to save it _just in case._ Who knows, maybe he’d turn out to be a top.

He blared his music as he walked the campus that had been home to him for four years now, and got hit with sudden ache upon realizing it would be his last year here. But Ryan Bergara would also rather die than acknowledge he was feeling sad, and drowned out his sorrows with iced coffee and his warm chocolate chip cookie. 

By the time Ryan made it into the building, at 4:28, he’d successfully avoided falling into a Mood. He went up two floors and walked down the hall until he found his professor’s office, pausing outside the door. He wasn’t sure why it was making him nervous all of a sudden, but he felt his heart beat hard against his chest. The door was opened an inch, and as Ryan got the courage to knock, he heard his professor singing to himself and stopped. Because he was _totally_ singing _When I Kissed the Teacher_ , which could be a coincidence, sure. The gays love ABBA. But he also remembered a very intoxicated Shane telling him he’s _“a good singer,”_ and there was definitely doubt at the back of his mind that Shane had, in fact, forgotten about Friday night. 

But that wasn’t important. He knocked on the door before he could decide to walk away, and pushed it open gently. Shane was sitting at his desk, surrounded by papers but focused on his laptop. The room was small, his desk shoved into the corner, and there was barely enough room for the small couch in there. The rest of the space was occupied by two filing cabinets, a bookcase (filled about 2/5 of the way), and a million or so plants. Shane turned around when he heard Ryan, closing his laptop with a smile. “Hey Ryan, c’mon in, have a seat. You can close the door if you’d like, or leave it open, entirely up to you.” 

“Cool.” He did that, shutting it with his foot and standing still for a few seconds. “I um, I stopped to get myself a coffee and figured I’d grab you one too, didn’t wanna be rude. I don’t know how you take it though. I have a handful of sugars, put in whatever you want.” Ryan put the cup on Shane’s desk and dumped the sugar packets next to it, not stopping to let his professor get a word in. “The guy there was flirting with me, sorry about the message on the cup, but hey, it’ll be an ego boost for you, right?” 

After his rambling was over, Ryan dropped his bag on the floor and sat on the small, reddish-brown leather couch (he was sure there was a word for the colour, but it escaped his school exhausted brain). Shane just laughed and picked up the cup. “Thank you, Ryan. That was sweet of you.” He took a sip, looking at the writing on the cup afterwards. “You’re hot shit, huh?” 

It caught Ryan off guard for sure, but not badly enough that he couldn’t answer. “I mean, obviously. You seen these guns?” Ryan flexed overdramatically, with a few _pew_ and _pshow_ ’s thrown in. 

His professor laughed again, putting the lid back on his coffee and sipping it. “Yeah, I’m sure they’re all over Mr. Frat Rat Bergara.” 

“Hey! I’ve never been in a frat, thank you very much.” 

“Really? Could’ve fooled me.” 

“Nah, they don’t always love the gays there. Although at the parties, there’s like, a weird amount of straight guys questioning themselves who are like, _oh Ryan, you’re gay right? Wanna suck my dick?_ Or _you do anal?_ But nah, I didn’t think they’d like me _joining_ all that much.” Ryan stopped there, not really sure why he was telling his professor all about his party life. 

Shane laughed a little bit and sipped his coffee again. “That is highly inappropriate, Mr. Bergara,” he said, but he was smiling while he said so.

“Hey, you’re the one that asked!” 

“I didn’t ask you about your _sex life,_ Ryan, I just mentioned how you’re a total frat boy.” 

“Didn’t you though?”

“No, I’m pretty sure I didn’t.” 

Ryan just sipped his coffee with a look, which was enough to make his professor laugh. It was a nice laugh— Shane would squint his eyes in a way that softened all of his edges, and it made Ryan want to smile too. “Alright, alright, so what do you have for me?” He asked. 

If Ryan was still being forced to apply his psychology class to reality, he’d definitely be feeling some role conflict at this point. He’s only seen two sides of Shane so far: horny drunk man who’s really _really_ hot, and eccentric professor who chooses weird things to be strict about but is otherwise chill. (And also really really hot.) He’s never been this _friendly,_ though. There’s definitely a difference between chill and laid back, and this man just tap danced right over that line. 

Ryan was struck with the sudden thought that he _definitely_ needs to find out if this man smokes weed, because it totally seems like he does. He’d bet money on it. Actually, he’d have to text the girl next to him in espionage later, and see if she wanted to make a bet about it (he got her number after a lengthy conversation about who does her hair and where she gets her clothes). He tabled that thought though and pulled out his laptop, still unsure of how to approach this version of Shane. Maybe there’s a reason he’s way more uptight in class? He _is_ new here. It’s probably a respect thing.

Regardless, Ryan pulled out his laptop. He opened the doc where he jotted down notes on everything from Dickson himself to socialistic norms of the time period, and handed it over to his professor. “So, I was looking at the Dickson experimental sound thing, right? And I know that like, obviously, one of the first time motion picture was paired with sound, but I wanted to focus on the content of the film.” 

“...Meaning?” Shane raised an eyebrow and looked over at Ryan at the question. 

So Ryan stood up and leaned over to point to some pictures he’d put in the doc. “Well, the men are dancing together, right? And like, I know that actions that we now think are sort of homoromantic or homoerotic, were much more accepted then among male friends. But, I was thinking about looking into it more for my paper. _Why_ have two men dancing so close? They didn’t have to be slow dancing, right? To a violin much less, a historically romantic instrument. And so I started looking online, and I know Wikipedia’s a bit of a joke, but they have the links to better sources and give a good overview, so I started there. And many critics are kinda iffy on whether or not it’s gay, right? I have a little bulleted list of arguments _for_ the gay, but I’ll explain that later. So then the article, well, ‘article’ said it was mentioned in Vito Russo’s book The Celluloid Closet, from I think it was 1981 or something? I don’t know, I wrote it down in there, but it’s mentioned in that book and I think Russo calls it the first instance of any sort of queer action in a film. And I was like, is it though? But there was no online PDF of it, and that follow up research I did over the weekend when I knew I’d be talking to you, so I was like, great, I’ll see if there’s a way around that. And then I haven’t done the research for this yet, but then I was like, what if there’s theories on Dickson being gay, y’know? And I was planning to look down that avenue later tonight, but if you don’t think that’s a valid interpretation of the film and I should switch my focus to something else, then of course I’d listen to you and do that—” 

Ryan stopped his rant when Shane stood up, silent. He turned to the bookshelf against the wall, next to the door, and skimmed it for a few seconds before pulling out a book. “Can you promise me you won’t ruin this by spilling shitty beer on it or whatever you do at home?” 

“Um, rude, I take excellent care of books.” 

Shane turned around and handed the book to Ryan, a copy of the exact Celluloid Closet he was talking about. His eyes widened in shock, and out of habit, he immediately started flipping through it. His immediate question when he looked back up at his professor was, “how long can I hold onto this?” 

Shane pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows for a few seconds. “How come? Don’t you only need the part on Dickson?”

“Well, i-if you’d let me use it, I’m— I’d really like to go through this, actually. Like, I’ve never been a big history guy, but y’know, movies are a whole different thing. That’s my major, actually. Film. And this is like, such a great reference, to go through all the movies and think about them— I’ll have Sara watch them with me!” Ryan caught a grip on himself and realized he was getting way too excited, then backtracked. “I-if I’m, y’know, allowed to.” 

Shane smiled all the way up to his eyes before he said, “hold onto it, Ryan. As long as you want to. Just promise me you’ll give me your thoughts on the movies, then. I’ve seen all of ‘em in that book.”

Ryan’s eyebrows raised even higher as he looked up at his professor, bubbling. “Really? What did you think?” 

“I’m not gonna spoil it.”

“Damn you,” Ryan said, but he was beaming when he did so.

Shane winked, then turned to sit back in his chair. He started typing something on Ryan’s laptop. “What year are you in, Ryan? You gotta be 21, right? Please tell me I haven’t bought a minor alcohol.” 

Ryan was surprised Shane was acknowledging that night, and that was the thing that really threw him off his rhythm. It took him a second to answer that time, sure the shock was on his face. “I’m a senior, don’t worry, professor. 21 years on this bitch of an Earth and counting.” 

“Hm. Good news and bad news, I guess.” Shane typed some more on Ryan’s laptop, further confusing him. “Also, not sure if you’re quoting Godot on purpose but I love it.”

“Wait, why? How come you’re asking?” Ryan ignored his second comment. 

“There’s this class I wanted to start teaching here. I’ve run the syllabus by the head of the history department, got it approved for next year. An LGBT history class, fancy title being History of Queer Culture in America Before Stonewall, focusing on everything left out of history books. I would’ve recommended you take it next year if you’d still be here.” 

Ryan laughed to himself a little bit, immediately thinking of his friends. “You’d _love_ my friend Sara. She’s in love with that shit. I get a lecture on gay history at least like, once a month. You two would have a pretty fun conversation together.” After the words left his mouth, Ryan realized what it sounded like he was saying, and quickly tried to backpedal. “Not that like, y’know, y-you’re not gonna meet my friends or anything like that, I just meant that like, uhh…”

Shane started laughing at Ryan and shook his head. “You’re too uptight Ryan.” 

Ryan furrowed his eyebrows and squinted at his teacher. “Are you like, high right now, Shane? Did you take a fat hit off a tank before I came here?” 

“Professor Madej,” he corrected lightly. “But no, I’m not, thank you for asking.” 

“I’m so confused right now.” 

“Yeah, I can see that.” 

Ryan could feel himself spiraling, trying to understand what in the fuck his professor was talking about. What does he even _mean_ by _“you’re too uptight”?_ Sure, he’s not far from the truth, but where does that fit into the conversation? And why isn't Shane feeling uncomfortable by what Ryan just let slip?

“God, I can _hear_ you thinking, Bergara.” Shane stood up then, closed Ryan’s laptop, and handed it to him. “Listen, I gave you a few leads to follow. Based on what you’ve done already, of course. Don’t focus on what every other source says, though. I wanna hear your voice and interpretation in there, too.” 

“So you think I should go with it?” 

“I think I’d love to read an essay on your interpretation of The Gay Brothers, as your google doc so eloquently puts it.” 

Ryan smiled and tried not to blush at Shane referencing the name. But his head was spinning, and he had to ask. He really did. So he put the book and his laptop back into his bag, took a breath, and turned around. “Shane— sorry, Professor Madej. I… you were pretty drunk, Friday. Do you…” 

Shane looked down at his shoes at that, and for the first time in just about forever, Ryan saw him looking genuinely embarrassed. “I, um, yeah. That. I… listen, Ryan, I’m sorry. I was like, really fucking drunk. Some shit with an ex came up, and I was just kind of upset, so one of my old friends from college brought me out, to get it all off my mind. I drank a lot, and I don’t really remember it all. But I know that I kissed you and I remember you walking away. I’m sorry I did that, Ryan, and I… like, I know I’m the one who was telling you it never happened, and for me to go and do that was really uncalled for. It was inappropriate, and unprofessional, and I really shouldn’t’ve done that. I’m sorry.” 

For about the hundredth time that day, Ryan was shocked, at the sincerity and depth of the apology. “Hey, don’t worry about it man. We all do dumb shit when we’re drunk, right? I mean, I’ve called like, _so_ many exes while drunk, and I think I married my friend Jen one of those times? I don’t know man, summer got crazy. But y’know, you’re not in your right mind when you’re drunk, I get it. It’s alright. We can forget about it.” 

Shane sighed and rubbed his face. “Thank you. Alright, I’ve been serious for way too fucking long, that felt disgusting.” 

Ryan let out a laugh, the pressure built up in his chest finally starting to ease up. “Yeah, I agree. Pretty nasty, Madej.”

_“Professor._ It’s _professor_ Madej, Bergara.” 

“Woah, professor Madej-Bergara? What’re you, fucking my dad?” 

Shane laughed again, even harder this time. “Get outta my office, Bergara.” 

Ryan smiled wide, threw his bag over his shoulder, and grabbed his iced coffee. “See ya tomorrow morning, Shane.” 

He heard Shane correct him, yelling “Professor Madej, god damnit!” As the door closed, and smiled at himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you believe how heavily i researched a stupid fucking 20 second clip just write ryan Rambles When Stressed bergara? 
> 
> anyways yes this is a chapter. thank you all for your support, it means the absolute WORLD to me that you guys are enjoying this bc i've been so obsessed with the idea for the past few months now. 
> 
> as always if you ever wanna chat you can hmu on tumblr, my main's @trash-lez, shyan acc @bradpistachio. send me pictures of ur pet! i lov talkin to people!


	4. Gay Brain Activated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane sighed, and just closed Ryan’s laptop and handed it to him. He caught a whiff of his cologne when Shane leaned across his space, and felt a little dizzy with it. “Go take that nap, Bergara. Make sure your essay’s in on time Friday.” 
> 
> Ryan put his laptop into his bag, before standing up. He felt like he was much too close to Shane when he did so, a dangerously small amount of space between them. He somewhat subconsciously licked his lip after releasing it. Shane’s eyes looked briefly downwards at the movement, but didn’t mention it.

Ryan had skimmed through most of the first chapter of _The Celluloid Closet_ on the subway, scribbling connections in his notebook and fighting every urge he had not to annotate on it directly. He found it fascinating and quickly flipped through the pages, creating a list of the movies mentioned. 

He didn’t explain the situation until he got home to his roommates, who were all at the table eating take out when Ryan came in. “Ryan, tell us about the meeting babe!” Curly yelled. Ryan wondered if he knew they were only ten feet away. 

“Yeah, how’d it go? Does he remember making out with you?” Sara asked. 

“Ugh,” was all Ryan said as he dropped his bag and sat at his usual seat. “I don’t even know what fucking happened there.” 

“Good or bad way?” Steven asked, handing Ryan his container. 

“Umm… he called me a frat rat, I accidentally mentioned hooking up with straight guys at frat parties, I rambled a lot, he gave me a book, told me to talk about movies with him,” Ryan was counting on his fingers as he listed off events. “He apologized for kissing me Friday, I accused him of fucking my dad, and I left. So yeah, that about covers it.” 

“Oh okay, so he likes you back then,” Steven said immediately after Ryan finished. 

“What? No! He was just acting so fucking weird. I asked him if he was high but he said no. Not sure if I fully believe him.” 

Sara choked on her drink. “You asked your _professor_ if he was _high?”_

“Well, yeah, Sara! I’m pretty sure most of the rules go out the window once you’ve felt your professor’s dick in the bathroom of a gay bar.” 

“Fair point.” 

“I have no idea how to fucking proceed at this point guys. Like I thought I had him figured out? But he keeps throwing me curve balls and shit!” 

“Just fuck him,” Curly said through a mouthful of food.

“Did you forget the fact that he would _lose his fucking job_ if that happened?” 

“Awww, you care about him!” Sara pinched his cheek when she said that and Ryan swatted her hand away. 

“Shut up!” Was Ryan’s lame comeback. “I’m gonna go do homework in my room.” 

“Wait, Ryannn don’t be like that,” she complained. 

“Nah don’t worry. I just gotta get started on this essay. It’s due Friday. Plus it’s gotta be doubly good if he gave me leads and sources and shit.”

“Let us know if you need anything chico. And don’t you dare overwork yourself!” Curly pointed his fork at Ryan as he spoke, a very mom-like look on his face.

“You got it,” he lied, fully intending on overworking himself. He took his food with him into his room and put on his music— if his friends had complaints they’d have to file them with his secretary. 

♡ ♡ ♡

Ryan didn’t _mean_ to pull an all nighter. 

His time was much better scheduled at this point, to where he didn’t really need to stay up to ungodly hours doing work. But that didn’t do much to curb the insomniac part of his brain; he was only doing work and researching until two, but got carried away with other stuff online. He ignored the time in the corner of his phone in favor of more conspiracy theory videos, then he was falling down questionable subreddits and looking into sites with the world’s ugliest layouts. He even took notes, pulling open one of his more miscellaneous notebooks to draw connections; because even the most outlandish theories had evidence behind them. And sure, maybe he was just stocking up to be able to annoy his professor. But it came from a place of genuine interest!

By the time he hit six in the morning, Ryan started making his coffee and took his medicine, fully aware that trying to get a few hours of sleep would be both foolish and futile. There’s a point of acceptance he’d set for himself, usually around 5:30 where he knew if he didn’t fall asleep that second he was up for the day. 

He took an extra long shower, having the time to spare, and hated to admit that he was much more energized in this moment than when he normally woke up. There was a solid chance of it coming back to bite him in the ass later during school, but he didn’t usually crash until he got home, so he was sure he’d be fine. 

Ryan even had a solid breakfast. Rather than a hastily eaten bowl of cereal right before leaving for the subway station, he made a big stack of pancakes for his roommates to all have for breakfast (and a little sticky note. Because he felt like being cute). He sat on top of the counter and ate them by himself, since none of them woke up as early as him and they all only had classes from 11 a.m. on. 

Later, tucked into a seat in the corner, Ryan let his mind sit still on the train. He savored every sip of his coffee, eyes closed as he’d tilt back the thermos and let it warm the back of his throat. His music was loud, every song playing precisely what he was in the mood for, and he was reminded that _this_ is why he stayed up all night two out of seven nights in his freshman year. There was a weird energy you gained, one that teetered on the edge of manic, and sure, that wasn't necessarily a _good_ thing, but the negative aspects never seemed all that big. 

Ryan still felt great as he walked across campus, smiled when he saw someone he recognized vaguely from one of his classes over the years. He even ran into an English professor from last year and had a nice conversation with her, promised he was still reading outside of class. He apologized when he had to cut it short, a friendly smile as he tried not to rush away from her to class. 

When his professor walked in the room, he didn’t even look at Ryan, as expected. Then again, he didn't look at _any_ of his students when he walked in, like they didn't exist until the clock hit a certain time. He tried not to care, getting set up for class when someone tapped their knuckles on his desk. He looked up and saw Mari, his sort-of friend from espionage, standing there. “So like, I literally just transferred into this class because I hated the other history I was in, mind if I sit next to you here?” 

Ryan smiled, a warm feeling in his chest, similar to when he first met Sara and Steven. “You’ll have to explain to whoever the ginger I sat next to is, but hey, I won’t be complaining.”

Marielle sat next to him, fully grinning, but said nothing else. Their professor started talking and they both looked towards the front of the room.

Ryan focused on the lesson and took notes, organized to an extent that he personally considered sexy. It was about a third of the way through the lesson when Ryan crashed, and started feeling the effects of being up for a little over 24 hours. He rested his head on his chin and felt his eyes drooping as he did his best to follow the lesson and typed his notes with one hand. 

He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he woke up with Professor Madej, a foot away, hands behind his back, looking like Ryan just flashed the whole class or called him a cocksucker. “Mr. Bergara, do you need to go back to your dorm?”

“Hm? What?” Ryan’s eyes widened as he took it in, blinking away the sleepiness. 

“I asked if you need to go to your dorm, since you don’t give a _single_ shit about my lesson it seems.”

There was still a lingering bleariness, and if he were more awake he’d probably be a little turned on by the stern tone his professor was using. All he managed to say to Shane was, “I live in an apartment.” 

A few people in the back tried to stifle their laughter, but his professor just crossed his arms over his chest. “If you can’t stay awake through my lesson, I highly suggest that the next time you don’t even show up.”

He was probably pushing it a little bit when he yawned, stretched, and said, “my b.” 

The people in the back were less subtle with their laughter, and Ryan would be lying if he said it didn’t fuel him a bit to hear it. Shane just narrowed his eyes at Ryan, and he saw the way his fingers tightly grasped the fabric of his shirt. “Do we need to have a word after class?”

And the way he glared had Ryan wide awake, thinking of about a million different scenarios where he’d love Shane looking at him like that. “Nah, I’m probably gonna take a nap after class, don’t sweat it.” 

“That wasn’t really a question.” 

Ryan swallowed around a lump in his throat, and he would’ve kept going if Shane didn’t turn around and start addressing the class again, acting like nothing happened. He looked right to make eye contact with Marielle, as he bit his lip and tried not to not smile. He saw her covering her mouth, in a similar predicament. 

"Bit of an overreaction if you ask me," Ryan whispered. He paused for a second before adding, "how long do you think before he actually does snap?"

Mari smiled and shook her head a little. "You're a madman, Ryan."

"Yeah, heard that one before." He would've kept talking, but didn't feel like getting Mari in trouble her first day in this class, so he dropped it.

Ryan tried really hard to stay up for the rest of the lesson, despite having to blink himself back awake every other minute. At some point Mari passed him a note informing him that _you’re gonna get your ass handed to you if you don’t stay awake._ He distantly thought to himself that he wouldn’t mind it too much.

There were a few moments where he’d nod off then jolt awake, realizing he hadn’t paid attention to the last five minutes. Overall though, he did a pretty good job.

Until he woke up in an empty classroom, to someone shaking his shoulder. He actually jumped this time, eyes flying open to his professor standing right next to him. His laptop screen had gone black, and he was too embarrassed to even guess how long he’d been asleep. 

“Do you wanna tell me why you’re sleeping in my class?” Professor Madej asked, in that harsh tone again.

“I-I, I’m sorry, I was trying like, _really_ hard to stay up, shit, I’m sorry. I just- I didn’t go to sleep last night, and totally thought it’d be fine, but I’m—”

“Why didn’t you?” 

Ryan stopped, trying to think of a way to say _I was looking at conspiracy theories_ without giving Shane ammunition against him. “I was working, and didn’t realize what time it was until maybe, 2? And I wasn’t tired by then, so I was kind of sucked into doing some other research, and gave up on sleeping.” 

“Do you know how insulting it is to have someone sleep through your lesson?” 

He was chewing his lip hard enough that it would probably start bleeding soon. He wasn’t expecting the pit in the bottom of his gut at being reprimanded, and it was _really_ confusing to have to feel guilt and horniness simultaneously. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, head tilted up so he could make eye contact with Shane, who was standing at his full height. Ryan didn’t miss Shane’s fingers gripping his own bicep tightly. _Who gave him the right to have such strong dom vibes?_

“Don’t do it again, Ryan,” he warned in a stern voice, and Ryan could _feel_ his mind encrypting it for Later Uses. 

“I-I won’t, promise. I’ll knock back a monster energy next time.”

“...You make it so hard for me to believe you’re not a frat boy,” Shane said, and Ryan could see him holding back a smile. “Stop biting your lip so hard, though, I don’t have any tissues to give you if you start bleeding in my classroom.” 

“What, am I distracting you?” Ryan asked, and it was only partially a joke.

Shane sighed, and just closed Ryan’s laptop and handed it to him. He caught a whiff of his cologne when Shane leaned across his space, and felt a little dizzy with it. “Go take that nap, Bergara. Make sure your essay’s in on time Friday.” 

Ryan put his laptop into his bag, before standing up. He felt like he was much too close to Shane when he did so, a dangerously small amount of space between them. 

He somewhat subconsciously licked his lip after releasing it. Shane’s eyes looked briefly downwards at the movement, but didn’t mention it. “Are you, like, permanently mad at me?” 

“I think if _anyone_ has the ability to be permanently mad about something there’s some underlying psychological disorder there.” 

Ryan held onto the straps of his backpack, scanning Shane’s face. “I’m gonna take that answer as a no, then.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I expect you to be awake for the lesson.” 

Ryan nodded, swallowed hard, and his arm brushed against his professor’s chest as he walked away. “Alright, see ya tomorrow Shane.”

He felt a hand on his wrist, stopping him from going. Ryan turned backwards, heart racing at the contact. “It’s Professor Madej. Don’t make me remind you again.” 

Ryan looked down at his wrist, then up at Shane, and he hoped it wasn’t obvious how affected he was as Shane let go. “My bad,” he said, a little delayed. He tried to keep his composure, but even to his own ears he sounded a little breathless. 

Shane said nothing, and he walked away and out the door. His phone was out and in his hands the second it closed behind him.

**_Ryan:_ ** _h_

**_Ryan:_ ** _help_

**_Ryan:_ ** _he. him._

**_Steven:_ ** _I have no idea what your problem is from that._

**_Ryan:_ ** _the. him. the shane._

**_Steven:_ ** _Oh, what’s up with him?_

**_Ryan:_ ** _he_

**_Ryan:_ ** _dom vibes_

**_Ryan:_ ** _he y e l l e d at me_

**_Ryan:_ ** _and gr abbed my wrist_

**_Curly:_ ** _i saw the words dom vibes and immediately tuned out my lesson_

**_Curly:_ ** _im begging you to elaborate_

**_Ryan:_ ** _i fell asleep in class and he got. angry about it._

**_Ryan:_ ** _gnhgnnhnh_

**_Ryan:_ ** _gay brain activated_

**_Steven:_ ** _Good luck with the rest of the week_

**_Steven:_ ** _Oh! Thank you for the pancakes :)_

**_Ryan:_ ** _how many times do i have to tell you that you look passive aggressive when you do the :)_

**_Steven:_ ** _Why Don’t You Like This Ryan :)_

**_Sara:_ ** _If y’all start fighting over Steven’s 2015 emoticon use again I’ll have to whoop all your asses_

**_Steven:_ ** _D:_

**_Ryan:_ ** _sara please. it hurts._

**_Sara:_ ** _If it makes steven happy you can suck it up_

**_Ryan:_ ** _noooooooo_

**_Steven:_ ** _^-^_

**_Ryan:_ ** _you’re just gonna sit there and let this happen???_

**_Sara:_ ** _Yes._

**_Ryan:_ ** _guess i’ll die then_

He put his phone in his pocket after that, and tried to ignore the thoughts running through his head of Shane grabbing his wrist tightly, talking to him in _that voice._ He only halfway succeeded. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long i highkey hated this chapter for whatever reason. thank you all for the support, i cannot express how much it means to me! y'all are half the reason i didn't give up at like chapter three jnfkbgjtjn.
> 
> if anyone ever wants to chat, feel free to hmu on tumblr, main acc @trash-lez, shyan acc @bradpistachio. i promise i don't bite <3


End file.
